


Here's Looking At You, Kid

by lilgirlost (lil_grl_lost)



Series: Fair Winds and Following Seas [2]
Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Military, Fluff, Friendship/Love, Humor, M/M, Navy JAG Corps, Navy!Mike, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-05
Updated: 2013-08-05
Packaged: 2017-12-22 11:04:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/912445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lil_grl_lost/pseuds/lilgirlost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harvey Specter had a carefully crafted view of how friends and sex should be; friends were friends while sex was sex and the two should never meet, so when they said their goodbyes, he never expected to hear from LT JG Mike Ross because that’s how one night stands (or in their case a one weekend stand) were supposed to be. So imagine his surprise at receiving an email from the sailor.</p><p>From that moment, a long distance friendship bloomed between the two men and just when Harvey thought he knew exactly what to expect from their relationship, Mike changed the rules again, throwing a wrench through every one of Harvey’s expectations about love, friendship, and sex.</p><p>(or: The First Year of Mike and Harvey’s Relationship)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Here's Looking At You, Kid

**Author's Note:**

> First things first: this story is not betaed, so all mistakes and errors are mine.
> 
> Having said that, I had originally planned on having this finished sooner; but unfortunately the majority of this story was lost in when my computer crashed late last year. And then I got distracted by a couple of different big bangs and challenges that I wanted to focus on.
> 
> I'm sorry for the long wait and I hope everyone enjoys this. 
> 
> Cheers.

✉   **Date:** 06/21/2007

 **To:** hspecter@personhardman.com

 **From:** mikeross@gmail.com

 **Subject:** rule #1: Don’t talk about fight club

You have a fan club. Or is it a hate club? I found your email on a blog where all of your conquests bash you. I can’t say exes because that implies commitment and you don’t seem like the kind of guy to commit… to anything, except for maybe a client or a million dollar deal.

Found a couple of other rather interesting facts about you. Did you really have sex in a Bugatti?

Mike Ross

ps: Apparently quitecontrary81 posted your name on a herpes website? Should I be worried? A guy likes to know these things...

 

✉   **Date:** 06/25/2007

 **To:** mikeross@gmail.com

 **From:** hspecter@pearsonhardman.com

 **Subject:** re: rule #1: Don’t talk about fight club

I never forget a face especially if it has a hot ass attached to it. Though, I’m a little surprised to hear from you.

For your information it was a Bugatti Veyron 16.4. And leave it to a sales assistant to not know the difference or have an appreciation to at least get the name right.

How’s the boat?

Harvey Specter

_Junior Partner, Pearson Hardman_

P.S. I don’t have herpes, though that does explain a lot.

✉   **Date:** 06/26/2007

 **To:** hspecter@personhardman.com

 **From:** mikeross@gmail.com

 **Subject:** My, she was yar...

Wow, I actually didn’t expect to receive a reply from you.

Gorgeous car. and do you have something against sale assistants, Harvey?

Not a boat, it’s a ship. A multipurpose amphibious assault ship to be exact. And I’m no longer on it. I reached my final destination 2 days ago.

So how’s the law treating you?

Mike Ross

ps: You should sue for libel. I happen to know a very good lawyer. ;-)

 

✉   **Date:** 06/26/2007

 **To:** mikeross@gmail.com

 **From:** hspecter@pearsonhardman.com

 **Subject:** re: My, she was yar...

I have nothing against sales assistants or anything of the sort, so get those thoughts out of your head. What I have issue with is people lying to me? He claimed to have an appreciation for high-end cars and it turns out that he couldn’t tell the difference between a Ford and a Chevy. Such a shame to waste a beautifully crafted machine on an idiot like him.

Sorry, ship then. I apologize if I hurt its feelings. So where are you?

As for the law, I’m treating it (and Louis Litt) like it’s my bitch and wishing every day that Daniel Hardman would get hit by a taxi.

Harvey Specter

_Junior Partner, Pearson Hardman_

P.S. I’m not just good, I’m awesome. And did you just emoticon me?

 

✉   **Date:** 06/28/2007

 **To:** hspecter@personhardman.com

 **From:** mikeross@gmail.com

 **Subject:** re: My, she was yar...

I hope you showed him whose boss. and please spare me the details. I’ve learned more things that I ever need to know about your creative sex life. Also, how dare he not know what kind of car you fucked him in?!?

One word: Ciao. Take from it what you will.

Louis Litt, huh… should I be jealous now?

Wishing harm on people, Harvey? I feel like there is a bigger story there.

Mike

ps: Funny... I wasn’t talking about you. Are you morally outraged? I feel like you typed that while being morally outrage and if so how come you know what their called when you obviously don’t like them? umm, Mr. Specter...

 

✉   **Date:** 06/29/2007

 **To:** mikeross@gmail.com

 **From:** hspecter@pearsonhardman.com

 **Subject:** I haven't killed anybody since 1984

Exactly. A fucking waste!

And Italy… it’s wasted on you. All those beautiful Italians and you can’t even appreciate them.

Nobody should be jealous of Louis Litt. He’s that person that everyone wishes they never become or born to be.

Daniel Hardman is a rat bastard, who doesn’t deserve to have his name on the door. That’s all you need to know.

Harvey Specter

_Junior Partner, Pearson Hardman_

P.S. I make it my business to know everything, even something as trivial as the correct name for smileys.

 

✉   **Date:** 07/03/2007

 **To:** hspecter@personhardman.com

 **From:** mikeross@gmail.com

 **Subject:** re: I haven’t killed anybody since 1984

quoting _True Romance_? Really Harvey?

Hi, sorry. I got caught up in a custody case. Long story, short: I hate the Italians and their courts.

OH! Louis is that kind of person. I’ve been researching your company. Harvard law grads only? Talk about pretentious. So he’s your typical Harvard douche… sucks to work at your firm!

Mike

ps: I don’t know if I should be impressed by your knowledge or find your justification for knowing it tragic…?

 

✉   **Date:** 07/04/2007

 **To:** mikeross@gmail.com

 **From:** hspecter@pearsonhardman.com

 **Subject:** re: I haven’t killed anybody since 1984

Got a problem with Quentin fucking Tarantino? If you do, I can’t be friends with you.

I understand your pain. I helped with a corporate filing for an Italian-based company a few years ago; the whole process was ass backwards. I felt like banging my head into the wall at every turn.

Yes, he’s a Harvard douche, just like the majority of the firm. Expect for me, of course.

Harvey Specter

_Junior Partner, Pearson Hardman_

P.S. Nothing about me is tragic. Admit it, you’re jealous!

 

✉   **Date:** 07/05/2007

 **To:** hspecter@personhardman.com

 **From:** mikeross@gmail.com

 **Subject:** Louis, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship

Friends now, are we? Sweet upgrade, dude. What sane person has a problem with Tarantino? Did you see _Grindhouse_?

Harvard douches are one of the reasons I went into the Navy, so instead I just deal with trumped-up Annapolis douches.

Oh, yes, Harvey. I’m so very jealous of you. :-p

 

✉   **Date:** 07/06/2007

 **To:** mikeross@gmail.com

 **From:** jazzman72@gmail.com

 **Subject:** re: Louis, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship

Don’t call me, dude. Of course, I’ve seen _Grindhouse_. What moron hasn’t seen it? Although, it’ll never be as good as _Pulp Fiction_.

Annapolis douches?

Harvey

P.S. I switched to my private email, Donna was starting to get suspicious and asking leading questions. Plus, I caught her trying to sweet talk the IT guy into hacking my email. I had to change my password, twice last week.

 

✉   **Date:** 07/07/2007

 **To:** jazzman72@gmail.com

 **From:** mikeross@gmail.com

 **Subject:** re: Louis, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship

 _Pulp Fiction_ is epic. Definitely his best film EVER.

Annapolis douche: an individual who thinks they're god’s gift to the Navy because they happened to graduate from the Naval academy.

Is Donna hot?

 

✉   **Date:** 07/07/2007

 **To:** mikeross@gmail.com

 **From:** jazzman72@gmail.com

 **Subject:** re: Louis, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship

Aw. Are the Annapolis educated officers being mean to you? Do you want me to beat them up?

Harvey

P.S. Donna is my executive assistant and she’ll have your balls for breakfast if it serves her ultimate goal.

 

✉   **Date:** 07/08/2007

 **To:** jazzman72@gmail.com

 **From:** mikeross@gmail.com

 **Subject:** Couple kids decided last minute they'd rather have fun at college

jerk.

Not all of them are bad. It’s a lot like Harvard… there are the stand up people and then there are the assholes you want to punch in the face. Luckily for me, LT Graves is someone I want to punch on a daily basis. He’s been a lawyer a whole year longer than me and thinks he knows all.

Ignore my rant. I just needed to get that off my chest.

She sounds scary. Should I be worried about meeting her in a dark alley?

 

✉   **Date:** 07/10/2007

 **To:** mikeross@gmail.com

 **From:** jazzman72@gmail.com

 **Subject:** re: Couple kids decided last minute they'd rather have fun at college

Please feel free to rant. I’d probably hold him down while you punched him. It’d fun, since Jessica won’t let me do anything worse than pee in Louis’s office.

Oh, she is; but she keeps me on task and acts as my pit bull. You should only worry if you’ve wronged her or me. You haven’t wronged me, have you?

Don’t tell me you actually watched that movie?

✉   **Date:** 07/11/2007

 **To:** jazzman72@gmail.com

 **From:** mikeross@gmail.com

 **Subject:** re: Couple kids decided last minute they'd rather have fun at college

You peed in Louis’s office.... I’m disgusted and yet mildly intrigued. What the hell did he do to deserve that?

And Jessica is... your boss?

I haven’t. I’ll keep it mind; though, she does sound like a woman I’d love to meet.

I saw it with a couple of friends while at the Naval Justice School. Apparently, there is an unwritten rule about watching any and all films concerning the Navy. So little choice was had…

 

✉   **Date:** 07/14/2007

 **To:** mikeross@gmail.com

 **From:** jazzman72@gmail.com

 **Subject:** Do you know the Klingon proverb that tells us revenge is a dish best served cold

He tried to snake a client and I got even during a late night at the office.

And yes, Jessica is my boss. She’s the Pearson in Pearson Hardman.

Not going to happen, kid.

Does that mean you’ve seen an _Office and a Gentleman_? And that’s a likely story, stop trying to save face and admit it. You have a man crush on James Franco.

 

✉   **Date:** 07/13/2007

 **To:** jazzman72@gmail.com

 **From:** mikeross@gmail.com

 **Subject:** re: Do you know the Klingon proverb that tells us revenge is a dish best served cold

Remind me never to get on your bad side. If that’s what you do to a guy you don’t like; I’d hate to see what you do to the guy you wish dead.

You’re a Trekkie! I can’t believe you’re a Trekkie. Somebody alert the media!

This is too funny.

Oh come on, Harvey... scared that Donna might fall in love with me and leave you hanging?

Yes, I’ve seen an _Officer and a Gentleman._ Worse 2 hrs of my life that I’ll never get back. And I don’t have a man crush on James Franco, but I wonder if you do considering you were able to name who starred in it.

 

✉   **Date:** 07/14/2007

 **To:** mikeross@gmail.com

 **From:** jazzman72@gmail.com

 **Subject:** re: Do you know the Klingon proverb that tells us revenge is a dish best served cold

Let’s hope it never has to come to that.

Hey, Captain Kirk is the man, okay? I don't want to hear another word about it.

Donna would never leave me. She came with me from the DA’s office; she’d follow me into the gates of hell if I asked. It’s called the internet, Mike. I like to stay well-informed, even if I have to google an actor’s name just to mock somebody.

 

✉   **Date:** 07/15/2007

 **To:** jazzman72@gmail.com

 **From:** mikeross@gmail.com

 **Subject:** The lady doth protest too much, methinks

I’m sorry for disrespecting the Trek. I promise I won’t do it again o_o

I’m sure I can find a way to lure her away. Nobody can resist a man in uniform. You should couldn’t. ;-)

 

✉   **Date:** 07/15/2007

 **To:** jazzman72@gmail.com

 **From:** mikeross@gmail.com

 **Subject:** you have every right to say no…

I want to preface by saying, I’m not trying to make this weird, but… what are your thoughts on a friends-with-benefits arrangement? Rules up front and everything…?!

I have a week’s leave coming up in October and I was wondering how’d you feel about meeting up?

 

✉   **Date:** 07/17/2007

 **To:** mikeross@gmail.com

 **From:** jazzman72@gmail.com

 **Subject:** re: you have every right to say no…

Some ground rules then:

Rule 1: We aren’t exclusive

P.S. Yet, you weren’t in uniform when we meet.

 

✉   **Date:** 07/18/2007

 **To:** jazzman72@gmail.com

 **From:** mikeross@gmail.com

 **Subject:** re: you have every right to say no…

Rule 2: No talking about dates or people we’ve slept with.

ps: The charm was already there. It’s a part of our training… there’s a course on it and everything.

 

✉   **Date:** 07/19/2007

 **To:** mikeross@gmail.com

 **From:** jazzman72@gmail.com

 **Subject:** re: you have every right to say no…

Rule 3: If one of us starts a relationship, this ends. I won’t be the other person.

P.S. Oh, really? What else did the Navy teach you that I should know about?

 

✉   **Date:** 07/20/2007

 **To:** jazzman72@gmail.com

 **From:** mikeross@gmail.com

 **Subject:** re: you have every right to say no…

Rule 4: It’s like fight club, we don’t talk about with anyone.

ps: you’ll just have to find out. ;-)

 

✉   **Date:** 07/21/2007

 **To:** mikeross@gmail.com

 **From:** jazzman72@gmail.com

 **Subject:** re: you have every right to say no…

Rule 5: No feelings. So try not to fall in love with me.

P.S. Where are you thinking?

✉   **Date:** 07/21/2007

 **To:** mikeross@gmail.com

 **From:** jazzman72@gmail.com

 **Subject:** re: you have every right to say no…

 **_Attach:_ ** _MRContract.pdf_

Read, initial, and sign the attachment.

✉   **Date:** 07/22/2007

 **To:** jazzman72@gmail.com

 **From:** mikeross@gmail.com

 **Subject:** re: you have every right to say no…

Wow! Do I need to have my lawyer look this over before I sign? I feeling a little insulted that you don’t trust me, Harvey.

I was thinking Nice. I’ve never been and we can spend a couple of days in Monte Carlo if you want?

✉   **Date:** 07/23/2007

 **To:** mikeross@gmail.com

 **From:** jazzman72@gmail.com

 **Subject:** re: you have every right to say no…

I like to have all my bases covered, especially where I’m personally concerned.

It’s not about a lack of trust, Mike. It’s all about I don’t like being screwed over and left looking like an idiot.

So sign.

Surf, sand, and gambling what more could a guy ask for? Plus, it’s not Jersey.

 

✉   **Date:** 07/25/2007

 **To:** jazzman72@gmail.com

 **From:** mikeross@gmail.com

 **Subject:** re: you have every right to say no…

 **Attach:** MRContract (signed).pdf

Done and done.

Make sure you send me a signed copy for my records. ;-)

True, anyplace is better than Jersey. I guess I’ll be seeing you in October.

✉   **Date:** 07/27/2007

 **To:** mikeross@gmail.com

 **From:** jazzman72@gmail.com

 **Subject:** re: you have every right to say no…

 **Attach:** MRContract(Harvey).pdf

Your copy of our agreement, kid.

 

✉  **Date:** 07/29/2007

 **To:** jazzman72@gmail.com

 **From:** mikeross@gmail.com

 **Subject:** Exact dates

October the 14th thru the 21st. My CO just signed off on it.

Nice is a go!

✉   **Date:** 08/01/2007

 **To:** mikeross@gmail.com

 **From:** jazzman72@gmail.com

 **Subject:** re: Exact dates

I’ll be sure to put it on my calendar.

 

✉   **Date:** 08/04/2007

 **To:** mikeross@gmail.com

 **From:** jazzman72@gmail.com

 **Subject:** If not, it's all-out war: we go to the mattresses.

Someone’s embezzling from the firm and Jessica wants me to find out who it is. Originally, I thought it was Louis Litt; but there was a discrepancy which pointed to him being a patsy. I hate admitting this... It’s actually leaving a bad taste in my mouth, but Louis actually found it. He’s good with numbers, better than me.

I can’t say who it is but if I help Jessica take them down then she’ll make me a junior partner.

Wish me luck.

 

✉   **Date:** 08/05/2007

 **To:** jazzman72@gmail.com

 **From:** mikeross@gmail.com

 **Subject:** re: If not, it's all-out war: we go to the mattresses.

I’m going to wish you and your boss the best of luck. I just hope it doesn’t all blow up in your face.

Am I right in thinking that this person is someone high-up in your firm?

ps: if you get fired, I have a couch you can crash on until you find a new job. :-)

✉   **Date:** 08/07/2007

 **To:** mikeross@gmail.com

 **From:** jazzman72@gmail.com

 **Subject:** re: If not, it's all-out war: we go to the mattresses.

Thanks for the vote of confidence kid. I really appreciate it.

Only your couch? I know I rate higher than sleeping on your couch. How about this, you take the couch and I’ll take your bed.

 

✉   **Date:** 08/08/2007

 **To:** jazzman72@gmail.com

 **From:** mikeross@gmail.com

 **Subject:** re: If not, it's all-out war: we go to the mattresses.

How about instead we compromise, we’ll share my bed.

 

✉   **Date:** 08/11/2007

 **To:** mikeross@gmail.com

 **From:** jazzman72@gmail.com

 **Subject:** re: If not, it's all-out war: we go to the mattresses.

Don’t you live in base housing or something?

 

✉   **Date:** 08/12/2007

 **To:** jazzman72@gmail.com

 **From:** mikeross@gmail.com

 **Subject:** re: If not, it's all-out war: we go to the mattresses.

Actually, I don’t. I have a small one bedroom apartment in an old building. My landlady keeps trying to set me up with her niece. Nice girl, I’m just not interested in being a party to green card fraud.

 

✉   **Date:** 08/14/2007

 **To:** mikeross@gmail.com

 **From:** dpaulsen@pearsonhardman.com

 **Subject:** Harvey’s in trouble

Mike Ross,

While I don’t fully understand your relationship with Harvey, I do know that he considers you a friend, even if he never says it. I’m writing to let you know that Harvey’s father passed away earlier today.

I’m not sure where you are or if you can do anything to help. I just thought you needed to know in case there was something you can do. Harvey needs a friend right now.

If I left it up to Harvey, he’d either never tell you or wait until long after the fact, thus making it an irrelevant fact.

Just let me know if there is anything I need to do on my end.

Donna Paulsen

_Executive Assistant_

_Harvey Specter, Pearson Hardman_

 

✉   **Date:** 08/15/2007

 **To:** dpaulsen@pearsonhardman.com

 **From:** mikeross@gmail.com

 **Subject:** re: Harvey’s in trouble

Ms. Paulsen.

Thank you for notifying me.

I’ve been granted emergency leave by my CO, so I’ll be there in 16 hours by transport. I’ll email you my full itinerary once I know everything.

LT JG Mike Ross

***

Mike wasn’t sure of what he expected as he walked through baggage claim of JFK late that same evening; there was something to be said about time zone differences and daylight savings. While it tended to mess with Mike’s system when flying (he was never sure of the actual day); it did serve a greater purpose in times like these.  As soon as he approached the crowd of drivers and family members, Mike spotted his name being held by an Indian man, not much older than Harvey. Walking towards the man, Mike saw the faint touch of grey at his temple and the faint tiredness in his eyes.

“Mr. Ross?” The man asked, earning a slight head bob from Mike. “Donna sent me,” he added as he held out his hand to take Mike’s garment bag from him.

“Oh, she didn’t have to do. I would have been okay taking the subway.” Mike explained, holding his bag back and resting it on the back of his knee, just out of reach. “It’s okay. I’d rather keep it with me.”

“Of course, sir,” the driver replied. “And it’s no trouble Mr. Ross. I consider Harvey to be a friend and when Donna called, I insisted on doing this for him. No matter how late your flight would be.”

“Call me Mike, Mr...”

“Rahim Benghazi; but I prefer Ray.”

“Alright, Ray. I’m ready when you are,” Mike replied with a small grin on his face.

Ray smiled back and said, “Then follow me.” And with that, Ray turned on his heel and lead Mike out of the building towards his waiting car.

Once settled in the backseat, Mike leaned his head back and closed his eyes, as his fist tightened around the garment bag’s handle. He couldn’t afford to sleep, not when Harvey needed him; but he could feel his body was on the verge of crashing after being awake for the last 26 hours.

“Any particular music, Mike?” Ray asked before starting the car and pulling out of the parking lot.

Mike shrugged his shoulders; his eyes remaining closed, and mumbled, “Anything that Harvey listens to is fine.”

“Of course, sir,” Ray replied as he glanced at a dozing Mike in his rearview mirror.

***

“Harvey!” Mike yelled as he banged on the apartment door for what felt like the hundredth time. When he had first arrived, Mike had tried to be polite but as soon as it was made apparent that Harvey wasn’t answering his door... all bets were off.

“I said go away!” Harvey exclaimed, throwing open his door and causing Mike to pause in mid-bang.

Mike scoffed, pushing his way pass Harvey and into the apartment. Gone was the usual immaculate, minimalist style and in its place stood could only be described as the remnants of a frat boy’s idea of a good time: empty beer bottles and greasy pizza boxes. “Like that’s going to happen.”

“Donna.” Harvey slurred, more as a statement of fact than a question. Because who else would overstep their boundaries and stick their nose in where it didn’t belong, even if she did it with good intentions in mind.  “Go away.”

“Can’t hear you,” Mike quipped, beaming at Harvey as he set his bag on a nearby chair. “Coffee, a shower, and then some food; though, not necessarily in that order,” he added, wrinkling his nose a little as he got closer to Harvey. The lawyer didn’t smell ripe just yet, but he wasn’t far off the mark.

“Leave me alone.”

“No, Harvey. Donna was worried about you enough to email me,” Mike countered, ignoring the faint sound of growling coming from his friend. He was a trained Navy officer and if he could stare into the eyes of a hardened gunnery sergeant and live to tell the tale than dealing with a drunk and later hung-over Harvey would be a piece of cake. “Shower first and while you’re in there, I’ll call for dinner and make some coffee.”

With a last glare in Mike’s direction, Harvey stomped off to his bedroom. A smart person knew when to pick their battles and there was no doubt in Harvey’s mind that Mike would win this round.

“If you’re not out in thirty, I’m coming to check on you,” Mike called out to Harvey’s disappearing figure. As soon as the bedroom closed behind Harvey, Mike wondered into the kitchen, opening Harvey’s take-out menu drawer and choosing the first menu he found at random. Thai food it was then; much better than Italian. His landlady, Signora DiMare, had spent the last two months forcing feeding him authentic Italian because she thought he was ‘much too skinny.’

Once the food was ordered, Mike focused on battling Harvey’s expensive yet complicated coffee machine; it had more bells and whistles than were really needed, in Mike’s opinion. The first and only time he tried to make coffee, the machine had tried to attack him and Harvey’s kitchen bore the brunt of it... hot water and coffee grounds thrown to the four corners. Luckily, Harvey hadn’t been too mad; he just rolled his eyes and sent Mike to the bathroom to clean up before he managed to do anymore damage to the kitchen or the coffee machine.

Twenty-eight minutes later, a freshly showered and less drunk looking Harvey wandered into the kitchen to find coffee and Thai waiting for him. “What? No beer?”

“Yes, because you need more alcohol.” Mike quipped, rolling his eyes as he sat down at the kitchen’s bar. Harvey grumbled and slid in next to Mike, grabbing the nearest carton. “I got a little of everything; I wasn’t sure of what you would want.”

Harvey nodded his head, letting the conversation die by appearing completely focused on the food in front on him. Emotions weren’t something Harvey knew how to deal with, so he didn’t. Yet, this time he couldn’t run from them.

“I liked her you know.” Harvey said out of the blue just as they were finishing dinner. There was so much he needed to get off his chest and his dad always said the best place to start was at the beginning.

“Who?” Mike asked as he took Harvey’s plate and walked it to the sink. There seemed to be more female friends in Harvey’s world than males, so Mike could never be sure of which one he was talking about; but something told him, Harvey wasn’t speaking of Jessica, Donna, or even Dana Scott for that matter.

Sighing deeply, Harvey told Mike everything: from Hardman’s embezzlement and affair to Zoe leaving.  “I don’t know what I thought, but apparently she didn’t have the same idea about there may being an ‘us’.” He told Mike, ignoring their rule about dating and relationships. Their agreement didn’t matter; Harvey needed a real friend not a booty call.

“I’m sorry, Harvey. It’s her lost.” Mike replied softly as he reached out, wrapping his hand around Harvey’s wrist and squeezing gently.

Quirking his lips in a smirk, Harvey regarded Mike for a moment then said, “God, admit it. You’re a girl,” causing Mike’s eyes to narrow. Leave it to Harvey to try and make joke while Mike was trying to offer some kind of comfort. “How many rom-coms do you watch in a typical week?”

“Apparently just enough to deal with drunk, depressed friends,” Mike remarked, closing his eyes briefly to steady his nerves, so he didn’t end up hitting Harvey.

Harvey fell silent again with Mike’s comment and rolled his coffee mug between his hands, just to give his mind something... anything to focus on, instead of the brunette sitting across from him. Three months ago, he wouldn’t have expected to find himself receiving comfort from a one night on the worst day of his life. But then again, Mike wasn’t a one night stand anymore; he was a friend and Harvey didn’t have many of those. His world was competitive and you either got ate or did the eating. There wasn’t much gray area in corporate law.

Leaving his mug on the bar, Mike grabbed Harvey’s free hand and tugged, pulling a hesitant Harvey off his stool and towards the sofa. With a little pushing and prodding, Mike finally settled Harvey on the sofa before curling him and running his fingers through the dark and slightly damp locks. Slowly, the weight on Harvey’s shoulders seemed to disappear as he relaxed, letting his voice break through the silence.

“I hate him for dying” Harvey whispered, trying to keep his tears at bay. “I was supposed to have more time with him. It should’ve been her.” Mike frowned and hugged Harvey closer, wishing he could take the pain away. No matter a person’s age, the death of a loved parent was one of the toughest parts of life.

Mike knew what Harvey was going through; he’d lost his both his parents as a child. Yet, Mike had Grammy while Harvey appeared to be alone. As they cuddled on the couch, Mike let Harvey’s pained and whispered words wash over him, never once opening his mouth to reply. Harvey needed to talk and have someone, who was willing to listen.

“Come on, Harvey,” Mike whispered, lightly jostling the sleeping man. He wasn’t sure of when Harvey had fallen asleep, just that he had. “Let’s get you to bed,” he said, earning a sleepy protest from his companion. The sight of a sleepy mussed Harvey forced Mike to bite his lip to keep from smiling; it was just too adorable to ignore.

Later, after he wrestled Harvey into bed, Mike curled around the grieving man in hopes that his mere presence would be enough to keep the nightmares at bay.

***

_Please stand for the committal._

_In grief at his death, but in gratitude for Gordon’s life, today family and friends have gathered to say a final goodbye. To thank Gordon for the privilege of having known him._

_We are grateful for the life that has been lived, for all that his life has meant to us. We now leave Gordon in peace, with respect and love, we bid him goodbye._

“He would’ve hated this,” Harvey murmured, so only Mike could hear. Mike’s eyes drifted from the preacher to Harvey, starring at his strong jaw line and solemn expression; he wasn’t the same man, who had meet Mike at the door. This wasn’t the Harvey, who had lost a beloved father; this was Harvey, the shark... the man who didn’t give damn about anyone but himself.

_We now commit his body to the ground, ashes to ashes, dust to dust. And while Gordon’s song has ended; the melody of his life will linger in the minds and the hearts of those who loved him._

As the gathered crowd slowly departed, Mike stayed and waited by Harvey’s side as people paid their condolences for his lost. The expression never made sense to Mike, _I’m sorry for your lost_ , as though they loved one had been misplaced instead of died. He could remember asking Grammy about at his parents’ funeral; but she had only ruffled his hair and kissed his cheek, telling him to not ask such questions.

“You must be Gordon’s youngest?” An older woman asked, startling Mike; he hadn’t expected anyone to actually speak to him. Although his dress uniform had received a couple of strange and curious looks, most of the funeral goers had generally ignored his presence at Harvey’s side.

With a shake of his head, Mike said, “Sorry, I’m not. I’m a friend of Harvey’s.”

“Oh, my mistake,” she replied in an apologetic tone. “I thought you might have been; Gordon was so proud of both his sons.”

“Sorry, ma’am.”

The woman laughed and patted Mike’s cheek in a very motherly manner. “You make me feel old,” she remarked then lightly touched Mike’s elbow before she moved away.

“We’re leaving,” Harvey said, grabbing Mike’s elbow and steering him towards the waiting cars.

“Where are we going?” Mike asked, glancing behind him as they left the gravesite. “The reception?”

“No,” Harvey replied as he opened the door for Mike, pushing him inside before joining him. He’d just buried his father, so he wasn’t the mood to make nice with his father’s friends... especially his mother, who seemed to be giving an Oscar worthy performance of a grieving widow. “The Singing River,” Harvey directed to their driver, who nodded his head before putting the car into drive.

Mike arched an eyebrow and silently waited for Harvey to answer his unspoken question, knowing that he wouldn’t leave Mike curious for long.

“My dad’s favorite bar,” Harvey replied as he settled against the backrest and grabbed Mike’s hand, squeezing it. “We’re going to drink to his memory,” Harvey continued, before lowering his voice to whisper the final bit in Mike’s ear, “then we’re going to our hotel, where I plan to screw you into the mattress.”

Mike shivered at the proposal, tightening his hold on Harvey’s hand. Leaning his head back, Mike closed his eyes and slowly drifted as the car moved through traffic.

***

 “Harvey Specter.”

“So this **IS** your cell number. And here I was wondering if Donna was just messing with my head,” Mike blurted out through the slightly static phone connection. He hadn’t known what to expect when he had dialed the number Donna has pressed into his hand at Gordon’s funeral.

“Donna,” Harvey replied, sending a pointed look to Donna, who was staring at him through the glass door. “Of course she did.”

After mouthing an exaggerated, ‘you’re welcome,’ Donna turned back to her computer, giving Harvey some semblance of privacy.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of your charming voice?” Harvey asked as he spun his chair around to gaze out onto the Manhattan skyline. There was a warmth in his voice that hadn’t been there when he’d first answered.

“A pleasure, huh? Charming? Sweet,” Mike replied, grinning into the phone. Despite the hour and the cluster-fuck his day had turned into, Mike found himself generally happy to hear Harvey’s voice again. “I splurged on a second calling card, just for you.”

“A second? Should I be jealous at being second fiddle?” Harvey asked, generally curious as to who else could possibly be that important in Mike’s life; although he’d never admit to it.

“Only if you’re worried about an 80 year old woman, I call Grammy,” Mike teased.

“Grammy, huh?”

“Yes, Grammy. Got a problem with it?” Mike challenge, arching his eyebrow even though Harvey couldn’t see it through the connection.

“Nope, not at all,” Harvey replied in fake sincerity. “So what are you wearing?”

“Do you really want to have this conversation, while Donna is listening in?”

“Good point,” Harvey said, earning a glare and a ‘spoilsport’ from Donna.

“I do have those sometimes,” Mike quipped, smiling into the phone. While he was perfectly content with emailing Harvey, Mike found he missed their playful verbal sparring.

“Cute.”

“That’s what Grammy has always said right before ‘smartass.’”

“A woman after my own heart,” Harvey replied, clutching his chest dramatically before spinning his chair around to look out onto the Manhattan skyline.

Mike laughed. “I’ll tell her you said that.”

“She knows about me?”

“Sort of,” Mike told him slowly, hesitant about how much he wanted to admit to Harvey about his phone calls with his grandmother.  “All I’ve really told her is that you’re a friend I meet during Fleet Week.”

“Lying by omission,” Harvey replied, a little impressed by Mike’s deception.

“It’s a very good trait to have in the service,” Mike admitted. “At least until the moment you get caught.”

As a member of the JAG corps, Mike had seen one too many careers ruined by ‘Don’t Ask Don’t Tell.” It was all a waste of perfectly good servicemen and women, whose only _crime_ was who they loved, especially when the lowlifes got a slap on the wrist, their wages docked, and maybe a couple of weeks in the brig.

“Harvey, I need--” Louis stated as he walked in unannounced into the office before stopping at the sight of Harvey on the phone.

“I’m going to have to let you go,” Harvey told Mike, hardening his tone as he transformed into Harvey Specter, ‘best damn closer in the city.’ “Some of us do work for a living,” he added without much heat as he spun back around to look Louis in the face.

“Hey! I work, I just happen to be 5 hours ahead of you,” Mike grumbled, frowning into the phone. While he would’ve liked a little longer with Harvey, Mike understood that Harvey had a job to get back to and couldn’t spend his day on the phone. “Not my fault.”

“Yeah. Yeah. We’ll finish this later?”

“When’s a good time for you?”

“Email me,” Harvey replied curtly then motioned Louis forward, taking the file from him. Opening the file on his desk, Harvey gave a document a quick glance as he waited for Mike to hang up.

“On it.”

Then dropping his cell on the desk, Harvey continued to read over the file, trying to understand what he was reading.

“Personal calls, during work hours, Harvey?” Louis chastised, clearly annoyed by Harvey’s seemingly lax work ethic. As far as Louis was concerned, Harvey hadn’t deserved his promotion to junior partner, especially when Louis had worked twice as long at Pearson Hardman before finally making it.

“None of your business, Louis,” he bit out before waving his hand at the opened file. “Now what do you want?”

***

“Board shorts,” Harvey said upon seeing Mike for the first time since August. The weather in Nice was holding at a comfortable seventy and if they were lucky, it would hold for the duration of their week long vacation.

“There is nothing wrong with board shorts, Harvey,” Mike shot back, exasperated by Harvey’s snobbish tone, especially at hearing it so early in their trip. Mike had no illusions about the other man, so his earliest expectation for the tone making an appearance was on day two... not minute one. 

“Says the kid in said board shorts.” Harvey smirked, amused by the small rise he seemed to be getting out of Mike.

“Well we can’t all afford two grand suits,” Mike shot back without heat. He couldn’t begrudge Harvey and his suits, especially considering how much he liked seeing the other man in and out of them. “Hi!” He exclaimed after a brief pause before leaning in for a kiss.

“Hi, yourself,” Harvey said, smiling softly at the slightly goofy expression on Mike’s face, like a kid in a candy store.

Linking his fingers with Harvey’s, Mike pulled Harvey along, in the direction of a waiting taxi. When he arrived late last night from Naples, Mike decided to do a little exploring before bed, just to familiarize himself with the area, since he planned on meeting Harvey at Nice’s airport. “So I really get you all to myself for a week?” Mike asked as they got into the taxi.

“Well, I do have a little business to take care of, but nothing major that’s going to ruin this,” Harvey replied after Mike told their driver where to take them.

“It better not, Harvey.”

“Hotel then lunch?” Harvey suggested lightly, leaning back onto the bench seat. He hated long flights, especially overnight ones. Given the amount of money he spent on a business or first class ticket, one would think the sleeping arrangements would be better and since they weren’t; Harvey rarely slept, choosing instead to work.

“Sounds good,” Mike agreed then leaned back too, resting his head against Harvey’s shoulder. “Any sights you care to see?”

With a leer, Harvey turned his head and whispered huskily, “Just you stretched out across our hotel bed,” then licked Mike’s ear, causing the young officer’s ears to redden.

“Harvey,” Mike hissed, flicking his eyes toward their taxi driver, a little embarrassed and a little turned on by Harvey’s unabashed behavior; although, he would never admit it out loud. After all, while Harvey’s smugness was sexy, it was also annoying at times, especially when it was directed at him.

“Not up for giving our driver a free show,” Harvey drawled before taking Mike’s ear in his mouth and nibbling on it.

“Not really,” Mike breathed as he dug his finger nails into Harvey’s leg, earning a small yelp from the other man. “Behave and you’ll get your wish,” he added with a smile.

Leaning away from Mike, Harvey crossed his arms and proceeded to ignore Mike for the rest of the car ride, which was fine with Mike because he was very happy to give Harvey his reward when they finally made it to their room.

*** 

“Wait, Harvey,” Mike called out as he exited the shiny red convertible Harvey had rented for their trip to Monte Carlo. When he had first posed the idea of heading to Monte Carlo for a little gambling, Mike had been joking; but it quickly became apparent that Harvey was going to take him at his word, which was why they had just spent the last {2} hours in a car.

“What?” Harvey asked ever bit annoyed that Mike had stopped him. He had an appointment with a potential client and Harvey hated to be late when millions of dollars were at stake.

“You booked a night at the Hotel de Paris Monte Carlo?”

Harvey arched his brow and drawled, “Yes.”

“Why?” Mike cautiously asked. There wasn’t a rule that you had to stay at the hotel you gambled out; although it was nice in practice. And while Mike knew the general ballpark figure of how much Harvey made, Mike couldn’t fathom spending over hundred a night, let alone five hundred, on a room where all you did was sleep.

“A client,” Harvey replied, his tone a little short. He was wasting valuable time by playing Mike’s version of twenty questions, even if he should have explained the real reason for their side trip to Monte Carlo.

“Really?”

“Yes,” Harvey sighed, “and you’re my eye candy for the night,” he added. Mike needed to know what was expected of him, namely to stand there and look pretty, which wasn’t exactly a difficult. Because let’s face it, Mike knew he was hot, otherwise, Harvey wouldn’t have given him the time or day.

“Eye candy or high-end call girl?” Mike quipped, a teasing grin on his lips.

“You’re not classy enough to be a call girl.”

Mike raised his eyebrow then asked, “Slumming it. Are you?”

“Never with you,” Harvey leered while handing over the keys to their rental to the attendant, who had been patiently waiting for them to notice him.

“Aw,” Mike drawled as they entered the large, orate lobby. “That’s almost sweet; but I don’t have a tux.”

The closest thing Mike had to dress attire was his dress whites and those were safely tucked away in his closet… in Naples. It was like he had anticipated a need for any formal clothes; after all, he was supposed to be on vacation, which in his head translated to a little sand, a little surf, and lots of sex.

After giving Mike his best bitch face, Harvey turned and started walking forward, knowing that Mike wouldn’t have a choice but follow. “I’m not Bruce Wayne,” Mike informed him the closer they got to the smiling receptionist.

“Don’t I know it,” Harvey stated, cuffing the back of Mike’s head, letting his fingers linger as he played with the short hairs at the base of Mike’s skull. “Though, I did pick up a suit from Rene. I guessed on your measurements, so two pants, two shirts, and two jackets. We’ll figure it out.”

Fluttering his eyes, Mike peered at Harvey teasingly through his lashes and cooed in the most horrible French accent Harvey had ever heard, “Does monsieur lawyer want a fashion show or a strip tease?”

“Bonjour,” Harvey said, pointedly dropping his hand and ignoring Mike in favor of focusing on the fetching woman in front of him. And she was just his type too… brunette, slim, and he’d bet next month’s paycheck that she had legs that went on for miles.

“Bonjour, monsieur,” she greeted in a light breathless French accent. “And welcome to the Hotel de Paris Monte Carlo.”

“I have a reservation under the name, Specter. Harvey Specter.”

“Of course, monsieur,” she returned with a smile before turning away to find his reservation in her computer.

*** 

“Did you have a good vacation?” Donna asked bright and early the following Monday. With Harvey gone, she had spent the first half of the week off then the remainder trying to get his post-vacation week in order, especially after receiving an early Wednesday morning call—talking 5am early—detailing all the documents she needed to pull for him.

She had been a little annoyed at being woken up so early; yet it soon gave way to gleefulness at hearing the Mike’s sleepy grumblings in the background, bitching about why Harvey was out of bed ‘so stupidly early’ and how he needed to get back there ‘asap.’ Easily obtained blackmail material was Donna’s favorite kind of blackmail.

“Of course I had a good vacation,” Harvey stated evenly while ignoring the Cheshire grin on Donna’s face. Sometimes he really wished she didn’t know everything about his life, especially when it involved vacationing with a certain Lt. in the Naval JAG corps.

“Yeah, Harvey,” Louis sneered, once he and Jessica had entered Harvey’s office. Louis had been lying in wait for the junior partner and as soon as Jessica had walked by, he followed. He wanted to know what was said and let Jessica know that he wasn’t happy about Harvey taking a vacation while they were in the middle of a multi-million dollar lawsuit. “Did you have a good trip while the rest of us were busy doing your job?”

“Harvey.”

“Jessica.”

“Got anything for me?” She asked, arching her brow just enough to let Harvey know that he had better have delivered; otherwise, he knew exactly what kind of cases he’d be receiving for the foreseeable future… pro bonos, lots and lots of pro bonos.

Meeting her look with one of his own, Harvey smirked, “Simon Gallopin.”

“He signed?”

“He signed,” Harvey reiterated before giving Louis a smug smile, enjoying the narrowed glare he got in return.

“Good.”

Louis cut in, not liking that Jessica seemed to be ignoring the elephant in the room. But then again, this was just typical Jessica and Harvey behavior; Harvey does whatever he pleases while Jessica lets him. “And how much did this cost the company?

“Actually, Louis. This was all on my dime,” Harvey told him, as he took the requested documents from Donna’s hand. “Now if you’ll excuse me I have some calls to return and some documents to go over,” he added, his tone leaving no room for argument. While his vacation had been very productive business wise, he still needed to draw up the final contracts and have them couriered over to Gallopin, who would be in town until Friday.

“Because of Mike?” Donna asked, once Jessica and Louis had left his office; but a look from Harvey told her everything she needed to know about his relationship... friendship… with the Navy Lt. “No don’t say anything, I know these things.”

“Out.”

“Careful, Harvey. You might be in danger of falling in love,” Donna teased gently before closing the glass door behind her.

Harvey waited until her back was turn before murmuring a truth he’d been avoiding since August, “Too late.”

***

 ✉   **Date:** 10/24/2007

 **To:** mikeross@gmail.com

 **From:** jazzman72@gmail.com

 **Subject:** How is this my life?

Gallopin asked about you in front of Jessica and Louis, and he might have inferred that you were a hooker.

 

✉   **Date:** 10/26/2007

 **To:** jazzman72@gmail.com

 **From:** mikeross@gmail.com

 **Subject:** re: How is this my life?

Talk about awkward…

And I prefer the term paid escort, thank you very much. ;)

***

 “My CO thinks I’m insane,” Mike announced without preamble. Their phone calls had started to become more frequent after Nice; yet, Harvey refused to read that trip and the frequency of Mike’s calls as anything more than the sailor needing to hear a friendly voice that wasn’t his grandmother’s.

“I could have told him that,” Harvey stated before shifting his phone from his left to his right ear, so he could eat his lunch. “What did you do this time?”

“Nothing, nothing at all,” Mike said, sounding as innocent as someone could through a cell phone connection and knowing full well that Harvey wasn’t buying his act.

“Idiot,” Harvey replied without heat; although, Mike would swear there was just a smidgen of exasperated affection in the lawyer’s voice. Not that he would ever accuse Harvey of it.

Mike stuck his tongue out, even though he knew Harvey couldn’t see it. “Abuse,” he claimed tiredly.

“Prove it,” Harvey challenged, unable to stop the slightly arch of his eyebrow.

“So mean.”

“And...?”

“Never mind. I’m not interrupting anything am I?”

“Not at the moment. I’m just waiting for a Harvard clone to get my briefs back to me.”

“Oh. Need any help?”

“No, Mike. He gets paid for this. You stick with your own job,” Harvey told him, before segueing into asking about Mike’s own work. After all, he called, so that probably meant he just wanted to talk anything and everything. “Anything interesting?”

Mike shrugged his shoulders and said, “Just a court martial.”

“What did they do?” Harvey asked, just a tad curious about it. He had spent two years working as an assistant DA and sometimes he found himself missing certain aspects of criminal law, not that he’d ever admit that to Jessica. Otherwise, she might find a way to give him more pro-bono cases.

“Harvey,” Mike whined, a little serious but mostly for fun, “attorney-client privilege.”

“I didn’t ask for a name,” he retorted as he rolled his eyes at the whine in Mike’s voice. “Please, I’m actually bored because Louis’s in court so I have no one to make cry.”

“What about the associates?”

“Not worth my time,” Harvey remarked flippantly. “Most don’t make it past the first year. So why bother learning names.”

With a small laugh, Mike said, “Such a pragmatist, Harvey.”

“I know. So the crime?” There was a pause before Harvey heard the sound of paper rustling, indicating that Mike was looking at the case file.

“Desertion, larceny, and aggravated assault.”

“Doing a lot in their life?” Harvey hummed a little impressed by the level of misconduct one squid could achieve at one time. It kind of made him worried about the state of their armed forces if that was the kind of crimes their personnel managed to commit while in uniform.

“Yeah,” Mike sighed, “doesn’t help they’re a douche.”

“Guilty?”

“Not sure. Only had the file a day and a half.”

“Smoking gun?”

“None in sight.” Mike sighed again, sounding more tired now than when their conversation began. Without looking at the clock, Harvey knew that it was late in Naples and Mike had already worked a 12 hour day; yet he couldn’t bring himself to ring off.

“Ah,” Harvey intoned, “Oh my briefs are here,” he added sarcastically with the barest amount of venom in his tone. While he understood the firm’s reasoning for hiring only Harvard grads, he couldn’t say that he enjoyed some of the idiots the law school managed to produce. “You took your time, Brandon.”

“Brian,” the red head stammered, obviously scared of Harvey’s reputation. Everyone in the firm knew of the rivalry between Louis and Harvey, so the associates tended to try and stay on Louis’s good side by steering clear of Harvey and his wants.

“Don’t care.”

“Harvey, be nice,” Mike chided with a hint of laughter in his voice. One summer interning at a firm in Manhattan had been the push Mike needed to make his final decision to go into the Navy. The backstabbing and the power plays weren’t something that Mike could honestly say he’d found enjoyment in.

“No.”

“Do no harm,” he quipped grinning into the phone and sounding a little less tired than he had before the Harvard minion had arrived. If Harvey had a heart, he probably would claim that it had warmed a little at the Mike’s amused tone. He worried about the kid in Naples a lot more than he ever imagined he would.

“That’s a doctor and you call yourself a lawyer.”

With a laugh, Mike exclaimed, “Harvard, baby!”

“Goodbye.” Harvey rolled his eyes and motioned the first year associate closer, taking the briefs from him without a thank you or even an acknowledgement of the good he’d done.

“Bye.”

***

If there was one thing Harvey hated about the Christmas holidays, it was his clients (or their companies rather) feeling the need to send out Christmas cards to everyone they had ever done business with, which meant their lawyers, their inventors, and probably even the people would cleaned their offices. It was annoying and generally gave him headaches, especially when Jessica all but ordered him to display the cards in his office until the end of December. One never knew when a client would come in and whether or not they would be interested in seeing the card they sent. It was for the good of client relations as far as Jessica was concerned.

So based on Harvey’s loathing of those little piece of card stock with their varying depictions of Santa, Winter Wonderlands, and Christ’s birth, Donna knew better than to walk into his office bright and early on a Wednesday morning with a pile of them in her hands.

“Burn them,” Harvey ordered as soon as he noticed the cards in Donna’s hands, which was immediate. Secretly, he counted the days until the first of the cards began to arrive, dreading them but also loving the validation they gave him for the work he did for his clients.

“Oh but Harvey,” Donna teased as she held up one card with a picture of Santa and a group of kids on the front. The card’s art resembled a Norman Rockwell painting to Harvey. “Look some are actually quite cute.”

“Out or you’re fired.”

Donna rolled her eyes and said, “Okay, but I’m leaving this one here,” before laying a green colored envelope on his desk; the envelope looked as though it had seen better days.

“Donna!”

“Open it, Harvey,” she called back, waving her hand teasingly behind her shoulder as she started to walk back to her desk.

“Why?”

“Just look at it and figure it out. You’re a smart boy,” Donna sing-songed, turning on her heel so she could give her boss a devilishly grin.

Grumbling to himself, Harvey picked up the envelope, noticing that Donna had opened it, like all the rest of the letters in the stack. Curious as to why Donna hadn’t opened this one, he flipped the card over and paused as his eye drew him to the black stamp with words _Lamborghini_ printed in gold under a charging bull, the carmaker’s logo. And then with a small grin on his face, Harvey gingerly opened the flap, not wanting to ruin all of Mike’s hard work.

 

 

_I thought you’d appreciate the stamp, at least._

_Merry Christmas, Harvey_

_Mike_

“Merry Christmas, Mike,” Harvey murmured before slipping the card into his bag, insuring that it made it home and far from Donna’s prying eyes.

***

Sleep that was all Mike was really looking for; he had another two hours before he needed to get ready for the day… a day of briefs and two client meetings. However, it seemed like someone had different plans for him, since his phone was ringing at 3 in the morning. Fumbling for his phone, Mike didn’t even bother to check the caller id before answering; he hoped that it had nothing to do with his Grammy.

“You’ve ruined me, Mike,” a masculine voice slurred, sounding as pissed off as a drunken man could.

“Harvey?” Mike questioned, his eyes blinking against the darkness while he strained his ears in hopes of better hearing his friend.

“Ruined me,” Harvey huffed annoyed at having to repeat himself. “Before you, I was perfectly happy fucking random strangers.”

“Are you drunk?”

“Shut up and let me speak,” Harvey demanded. He needed Mike to shut up and understand why Harvey was pissed at him and drunk. The client/firm Christmas parties were supposed to be fun and easy; eat good food, drink a couple of glasses of wine, and then pick up a pretty girl to take home at the end of the night. Yet, Harvey had found himself unable to do it; just the idea of sleeping with another person had turned his stomach. So instead of enjoying the evening, Harvey had sat at the bar and drank until Donna managed to pour him into Ray’s waiting car. Once home, Harvey poured himself a double finger of whisky and decided that it would be a perfect time to call Mike and give the sailor a piece of his mind. “But nooooo.... you had to walk into that damn bar with your witty remarks, obscure movie references, and pretty looks.”

“Harvey, stop. Before you say something you’ll regret,” Mike murmured sadly. There was no way he’d let Harvey ruin their friendship because of something he said while drunk. Harvey might not remember this conversation in the morning; but Mike would and Mike couldn’t see himself being able to forget Harvey’s words.

“Don’t you see Mike,” Harvey tried again, ignoring Mike’s plea. “I should regret meeting you--”

The moment Mike heard those words; he knew that he had to shut Harvey down before anything else was said. Mike couldn’t stand the thought of loosing his friendship with Harvey. It wasn’t like he didn’t know what Harvey was willing to give to him. “Goodnight, Harvey.”

“But I don’t. You’re the first person to see me since Donna and I’m scared I’m going to fuck this up. I don’t want to lose you,” Harvey whispered, his voice choked by the almost tears he was crying. “I’m not sure I can do faithful, Mike.”

Mike felt the tug of his heart when Harvey spoke those words. “Harvey, hang up the phone and go to bed,” he said gently.” We’ll have this conversation when you are sober. Okay?” Mike added, knowing full well that they would most likely never revisit this conversation, because of Harvey’s inebriated state and his own unwillingness to rock the boat of their carefully contrasted friendship.

“Okay,” Harvey whispered before disconnecting the call. With a deep sigh, Mike swung his legs over his bed and grabbed his bathrobe, fumbling his way into the kitchen to make a pot of coffee and get a head-start on his briefings. Sleep wouldn’t be happening tonight for him.

 

✉   **Date:** 12/07/2007

 **To:** jazzman72@gmail.com

 **From:** mikeross@gmail.com

 **Subject:** Take the blue pill, the story ends... Take the red pill, you stay in wonderland...

The choice is yours, Harvey.

I will still care about you, no matter what.

Mike

***

 

✉   **Date:** 12/19/2007

 **To:** mikeross@gmail.com

 **From:** dpaulsen@pearsonhardman.com

 **Subject:** re: Harvey’s in trouble

Mike.

Whatever he did, he is sorry.

Dear god, he is sorry. Fix it! Fix him!

I’ve tried everything and if he pisses another client off, Jessica’s going to have his balls. 

Donna

 ***

“Harvey, stop pissing off your clients,” Mike ordered in his best military voice as soon as Harvey picked up the phone. As much as he should have been surprised by Donna’s email, he wasn’t. After one unanswered text and phone call, Mike decided to let Harvey be Harvey and sort his own issues out. If Harvey didn’t want his help, then that was fine by Mike.

“Donna called you.” Harvey sighed, annoyed already by his assistant’s meddling and the brief glimpse of smugness on her face as he turned his chair towards the skyline. The view wasn’t as spectacular as it normally was due to the rain clouds slowly moving across the city.

“No, she emailed. Now stop acting like a douche. Apologize to her and get your head out of your ass.”

“You have no--”

“Shut up, Harvey,” Mike growled. He was tired and in no mood to deal with Harvey’s bullshit. The only reason why he called was because Donna asked him too. And as the Navy taught him, you never say no to a damsel-in-distress, even if Mike would never call her that to her face. “I’m not the one who confessed my feelings while drunk, so you have no right to be pissed at me. You think you’re the only one scared. I could lose everything if the Navy found out. But it’s a gamble I’m willing to make. Are you?”

“Mike...”

“Nothing in life is certain, Harvey,” Mike threw out, effectively shutting down whatever Harvey was going to say. He was just as scared of all this as Harvey; the only difference was, a relationship could and did mean an end of his career. And for all his bitching about certain aspects of it, Mike did like the work and the people he’d met along the way.

“Yes.”

“Yes? Are you saying--?” Mike asked torn between shock and confusion at Harvey’s answer. Whole-heartedly he wanted Harvey’s answer to be an affirmation that he wanted to give a relationship a go; yet, Mike knew that he shouldn’t expect anything from Harvey. They had made their rules for a reason and Mike was happy to take anything that Harvey was willing to give.

“Yes.”

Mike felt the laughter bubble in his throat at what Harvey was agreeing to. Harvey wanted to be exclusive… to have monogamous relationship with Mike. “I love you,” he blurted out before realizing what he had just said. “God, I didn’t mean to say it that fast,” Mike groaned, a little embarrassed yet still giddy from Harvey’s affirmation. Then after a quick glance at his watch, Mike said, “And now I have to go; I have a motion in an hour. Gotta prep.”

“Knock them dead,” Harvey said, smiling softly into the phone and knowing full well that Mike couldn’t see it. After hanging up the phone, Harvey opened his text messages and typed the three words that he didn’t have the guts to say out loud yet.

 

 **Harvey** **(718) 279-5914**

I love you, too.

 

 

***

✉   **Date:** 02/14/2008

 **To:** jazzman72@gmail.com

 **From:** mikeross@gmail.com

 **Subject:** Beam me up, Hottie!

 

2 weeks in March. And you will meet Grammy.

Mike

 

 **Harvey** **(718) 279-5914**

Do I not get a choice in the matter?

**Mike +39 3290 194670**

No

 **Harvey** **(718) 279-5914**

E-mail your flight details when you know them

**Mike +39 3290 194670**

Roger that!!!

 **Harvey** **(718) 279-5914**

And the Trekkie jokes stopped being cute 3 months ago

**Mike +39 3290 194670**

Blame yourself you’re the one who sent me the all 3 seasons on DVDs

 **Harvey** **(718) 279-5914**

An error that needs to be fixed asap

**Mike +39 3290 194670**

Promises promises  ;-)

***

 “Grammy,” Mike announced softly while knocking gently on her hair opened door. Given the older woman’s heart condition, Mike didn’t want to startle her and accidently cause an attack. Edith Ross was the only family Mike had left and he needed her in his life as long as humanly possible.

Turning in her seat, the white haired lady smiled and scolded him. “Michael, you should’ve told me you were coming.”

“Then it wouldn’t have been a surprise,” Mike replied and stepped inside the tastefully decorated room. As much as Mike hated having to place his grandmother in a nursing room, they both had quickly decided it was the best place for her, especially after Mike had left for Rhode Island. He needed to make sure that she was being looked after properly and it wasn’t like he couldn’t afford it. His salary might not have been what he would’ve made as a first year associate in a large firm; but the military benefits definitely outweighed the money.

“Smartass,” Edith groused good-naturally as her eyes left Mike’s face to focus on the man behind him, who was wearing the polar opposite of Mike’s attire. Where her grandson was in jeans, a t-shirt, and half-zipped hoodie, the casually dressed man looked like he had stepped out of a J Crew magazine, pressed dark wash jeans, a light blue dress shirt under a dark gray v-neck sweater.

Harvey snorted, amused by her quick retort, even if it did earn him an elbow to the side and a glare from Mike. Once certain that Harvey would behave himself, Mike pulled Harvey closer and said, “Grammy, I’d like you to meet Harvey Specter,” before turning to address his boyfriend, “Harvey, my grandmother, Edith Ross.”

“Please to meet you, Edith,” Harvey told her, grabbing her hand and squeezing it gently before letting it go. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“And I you,” she replied, her eyebrow raised as she leaned passed him to look at Mike. “He’s more handsome than you lead me to believe, Michael.”

Harvey gave an involuntary bark of laughter while Mike drawled a no-threatening, “Grammy.”

“So you’re the one who’s stolen my grandson’s heart?”

“Grammy.”

“Hush, Michael. You sound like a broken record,” Edith admonished, her tone bordering on amused and exasperated by her grandson’s behavior. If he didn’t want her to actually speak with (read: interrogate) the man in his life, then he shouldn’t have brought Harvey to meet her. After all, her son James wasn’t here to do it, so it only left her. “Now why don’t you take a minute to speak with my doctor while Mr. Specter and I have a nice chat,” she said in such a way that left no room for argument; but then again, who was Mike to argue with his 80-something year old grandmother. She had definitely raised him better than that.

With a exaggerated groan, Mike crossed his arms and made a face at his grandmother, looking every bit like he did at 16 and Edith shut him down on getting a car. Her reasoning had been two-fold, they weren’t practical when living in the city, the cost of maintenance was more than she could afford while raising a growing teenager, and she was scared of losing Mike in the same way she had lost his parents.

“Yes, Michael. Why don’t you?” Harvey parroted fondly, earning another elbow jab from his lover. Mike’s behavior when dealing with his grandmother was just too funny not to exploit, even if it meant Mike taking it out on him later in the privacy of his bedroom.

“I hate you,” Mike mouthed and then turned on his heel to leave his grandmother and Harvey to _talk_ … threaten more likely if Edith had her way. She may look like a sweet innocent grandmother, who baked cookies and fixed your boo-boos but under her grandmotherly exterior was a woman, who would do everything in her power to protect her only grandson.

“Love you, too... Snookums,” Harvey called out as Mike left the room.

Once Mike was gone, closing the door behind him, Edith turned in her chair and motioned Harvey forward, indicating the vacant chair in front her. With Harvey seated, Edith leveled him with a icy glare, her voice devoid of the warmth it once held. “Let me be clear, Mr. Specter, after I lost my son and daughter-in-law, Michael became all I had left in this world. So if you break his heart or hurt him in anyway, I will be taking Mr. Bianchi up on his generous offer.”

“Italian mob?” Harvey asked, not letting an ounce of his fear or general curiosity to show. He might have faced down fortune 500 companies and eaten them for breakfast; but there was something about Mike’s Grammy that Harvey knew he shouldn’t cross unless he wanted to regret it.

“So he claims. But who knows for certain,” Edith countered with a flippant shrug of her shoulders. “Are we clear?”

“Crystal.”

“Good,” she told him, a smile stretching across her face when Mike came back into the room. “Michael, what did she tell you? Am I ‘being unmanageable’ again?”

“No, Grammy. You’re absolutely perfect,” Mike told her, coming closer to the table where Grammy and Harvey sat. With an idea in his head, Mike asked, “Ever played backgammon, Harvey?”

“Oh, he doesn’t want to play that, Michael,” Grammy declared while giving Harvey a pointed look, secretly daring him to argue with him.

Harvey met her look with one of his own, Edith might be Mike’s grandmother, but he had never backed down from a fight. “Actually, Edith, I’d love to give it a try.”

“Michael, the board,” Edith ordered.

“Yes, Grammy,” Mike replied, shuffling his feet as he went to get the board from the low bookshelf by the bedroom door. Harvey smirked as soon as Mike’s back was turned; the sailor loved his grandmother and she had him whipped.

***

Once they entered the car, Mike grabbed Harvey’s hand, lacing their fingers together as he said, “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I know,” Harvey replied evenly, taking in Mike’s earnest expression. For the longest time, his dad had been the only family Harvey had to count on, so he understood Mike’s relationship with his grandmother. And even thought it was a little sweet how much they doted on one other. “I wanted too,” he added as an after thought. “She’s important to you so that makes her important to me. Got it?”

“Yeah,” Mike sighed, relieved that Harvey seemed to want to take an interest in his grandmother. Not a lot of people in Mike’s life had been willing to put up with his desire to care for his grandmother. Trevor had been one of those people, so the moment Mike had decided to live at home to help Grammy while going to Columbia, Trevor had gotten pissed off at Mike for ruining all _their_ plans. 

“Good,” Harvey said as he squeezed Mike’s hand, causing the younger man to return the small gesture of comfort. With their discussion finished--or at least as far as Harvey was concerned--, Harvey leaned forward and directed his next statement to their driver, “Ray, I need to stop at the office, so around the block.”

“Got it, boss,” Ray said, looking into Harvey’s face through the rearview mirror. While Harvey and he only seemed to talk about music and records, Ray could see that the man with Harvey was special. Anyone les than serious wouldn’t fly half way across the world when a friend’s father passed away; they usually only sent flowers.

“Want to come up or wait in the car?”

“Come up,” Mike answered after a beat. “I’m curious about your office, actually.”

“Well come on,” Harvey grumbled almost pulling Mike from the car. He apparently hadn’t been moving as fast as Harvey wanted him too.

As soon as the pair reached the glass front doors, Harvey pulled out his wallet and swiped his keycard against the reader, waiting to the almost silence beep to happened before opening the door. Once inside the glass and marble lobby, Harvey waved to the weekend security guard and swiped his keycard, leading Mike through the electronic gate and to the elevator bank. They walked in silence with Harvey leading Mike down the hall from the elevators and into his corner office.

“Nice... much nicer than my office,” Mike said as he spun on his heel, taking in the whole of Harvey’s office before walking towards the low shelf in front of the windows. “See that would be funny if I actually had an office, instead I have a desk in a bullpen.”

“No cubicles?” Harvey asked a little distracted as he shuffled papers on his desk, looking for the contract that he had accidently left behind. The contract’s revisions weren’t terribly important but since they were an easy fix, Harvey had planned on making the corrections over the weekend.

“No cubicles.”

With the contract in hand, Harvey looked up at Mike, finally noticing that the sailor had moved from his office doorway to the windows, where he was lightly fingering the dips and grooves on his basketball collection as he took in the darkening afternoon sky. It was a view that Harvey enjoyed more than he let on. “Want the ten cent tour?”

“Got the time?” Mike asked, turning away from the window to look Harvey in the eye.

“Not really,” Harvey lied. They had plenty of time; but Harvey had plans for Mike, some of which involved the sailor being laid out in Harvey’s bed and wearing little to no clothes at all. He had the whole rest of the weekend to spend with his lover and after the last five months with only his hand for comfort, Harvey intended to show Mike exactly how much he was missed.

“Maybe later,” Mike conceded as he moved away from the window. Stopping in the middle of the floor space, Mike waited for Harvey to join him, asking, “Got what you needed?”

Harvey held up the contract for Mike to see and said, “Let’s go.”

***

“Harvey. The door,” Mike groaned sleepily as he rolled over to look at his lover, who seemed more focused on reading the contract in his hand than his general surroundings. Not that Mike blamed him. After a morning spent wrapped around each, enjoying several leisurely pursuits, Harvey had retreated from the bed long enough to shower, grab his briefcase, and phone for lunch, which apparently had just arrived.

“Leave it,” Harvey order distractedly and grabbed for the wandering hand creeping up his side. He knew exactly what Mike was trying to do and he wasn’t playing; he needed to finish learning the ins and out of this contract’s terms before Monday, so he didn’t have time for any distractions, especially Mike’s.

“The food,” Mike pouted while attempting to tug his hand from Harvey’s grip. Normally Mike wouldn’t mind being manhandled by Harvey, yet right now he just wanted food and sleep, not necessarily in that order.

“So needy,” Harvey mocked as he released Mike’s hand and reached over to grab his wallet from the nightstand. Throwing back the blankets, Harvey swung his legs over the edge and then stretched, trying to work the kinks from his body.

“Just get the door,” Mike said with a shove. He was hungry and Harvey was currently the only thing standing between him and his lunch. Well… that and clothes, which Mike was exactly sure where they had disappeared to in their rush last night. “Are you trying to starve me? I’m skinny enough as it is.”

Harvey laughed and turned his head, giving Mike a naughty smile. “You want to ruin your girlish figure?”

“My figure isn’t girlish,” Mike challenged as he kneeled on the bed behind Harvey, allowing the lawyer to see everything the blankets had been hiding: a sprinkle of freckles across Mike’s shoulders, a happy trail of dark hair, and the love bits Harvey had left. It was an image that Harvey didn’t think he’d ever get tired of.

“Says you,” Harvey shot back, having a pretty good idea where this was going and how it would end.

Mike smiled and palmed himself, staring into Harvey’s face. “Says this.”

“Looks like dinner will have to wait.” Reaching out, Harvey grabbed Mike’s hips and pushed him backwards, watching as the sailor sprawled across the plush bedding before stretching out, laying his body flush against Mike’s.

“Seems that way,” Mike murmured, lips already seeking Harvey’s in a heated kiss, and not in the least bothered that lunch wouldn’t be happening.

***

“Someone got laid this weekend,” Donna greeted while handing Harvey a mixture of briefings and contracts that had been delivered by a second year associate before Harvey’s eight o’clock arrival. “So when am I going to meet him?”

Glancing away from the contract he’d been reading, Harvey rolled his eyes. “You did meet him.”

“Harvey.”

“Donna.”

“You’re no fun,” Donna pouted, frowning at her boss for not giving up the gossip. Donna thrived on gossip, especially when it was in reference to either her boss’s sexual conquests or all the personal appointments that Louis had Norma schedule for him. It paid to have blackmail material on Louis because it managed to serve both hers and Harvey’s best interests.

“What can I say? I don’t kiss and tell.”

“Lies,” Donna accused, pointing her finger at him. But instead of going any further, she conceded the argument and said, “This one’s special, though.”

Giving her a small grin, Harvey breathed, “yeah,” before turning away from her desk and entering his own office.

“Don’t forget the Russell conference at 2!” Donna called to his retreating back, causing the lawyer to stop and look at her.

“Thanks, Donna,” Harvey told her as he closed his glass door behind him.

Once she was sure Harvey was focused on his own work, Donna slipped down the hall, heading towards Norma’s desk. If she was lucky, the woman would have the dirt on how Louis spent his weekend.

***

“You haven’t moved since I left,” Harvey said with a touch of disbelief in his voice. Yet, he shouldn’t have been all that surprised by Mike’s sloth-like tendencies because as soon as he had left the bed that morning, Mike had simply rolled over and grabbed his pillow, wrapping it in a vice-like grip before going back to sleep. Harvey might have found the image sweet if he hadn’t been annoyed at Mike having the ability to sleep as long as he wanted, because contrary to popular belief in the office, Harvey wasn’t a work-alcoholic. He enjoyed any and all free time that was afforded to him.

“Nope,” Mike affirmed as he rolled over on the rumbled bed to look at Harvey, who was standing in the open. To Mike’s eye, Harvey appeared to be as put together as he had been when he left the apartment that morning. Mike kind of envied the man’s ability to stay so crisp looking after a stressful day of lawyering; usually by the time Mike returned to his small flat, his uniform which had started the day with its skillfully ironed creases was rumbled and more than likely carried a grease-strain or two from his lunch. “Well... except for food and bathroom breaks.”

Harvey rolled his eyes at Mike’s answer, but quickly pushed down his annoyance. It wasn’t Mike’s problem that every time stuck Louis nose into Harvey’s case, it seemed to turn into one giant clusterfuck and Harvey was left having to fix it, which was the reason why he was late getting home. When Donna had left at six, Harvey had roughly another hour of work; but Louis had appeared and that hour had turned into three. “Will you get up for dinner?”

“Depends on the food being offered…” Mike teased, his statement trailing off at the end while arching his brow at Harvey.

“Up,” Harvey commanded, jerking the duvet from Mike’s sprawled form, revealing the same t-shirt and a pair of sleep pants that Mike had been wearing with Harvey left. “Put on your least offensive clothes.” He added as an afterthought before turning his back to the pouting brunette and crossing to his walk-in closet.

“No fancy restaurant for me.” Mike pouted, the frown an exaggeration on his lips, while his eyes twinkled mischievously at his lover’s back. While Mike knew that Harvey enjoyed the finer things in life: expensive cars, expertly tailored suits, and good scotch, he also knew that Manhattan lawyer had no qualms about buying a cheap hotdog from the cart across the street from his office.

“I don’t have to wine and dine to get you into bed,” he retorted, not bothering to look at Mike as he spoke. “Up.” He repeated for good measure after not hearing Mike’s feet hit the floor or sensing that the sailor had finally moved from the bed.

“I feel cheap.”

“And yet, you aren’t. Now up. I hate repeating myself,” Harvey all but growled as he turned around to face Mike, who was kneeling at the foot of the bed; his patience was wearing thin and as much as he loved Mike, he wasn’t exactly in the mood to deal with his childishness.

A teasing grin spread across Mike’s face. “Maybe I should charge more.”

“Shower,” Harvey stated firmly as he dropped his clothes on the bed before reaching out to tug Mike off the rumbled bedding. After a long day, dealing with Louis’s bullshit, all Harvey wanted to do was see his pillow before midnight and the longer Mike took to move, the more likely Harvey was of committing justifiable homicide.

With a growl deep in his throat, Harvey arched his brow and gave Mike a pointed look, silently daring the sailor to continue his stall tactic. “Love you,” Mike murmured when he saw the dark look in his lover’s face. It would seem he had let the playful banter last a bit too long.

“Go,” Harvey urged forcefully, shoving Mike towards the open bathroom; but just as he entered the room, Mike turned back, catching the small smile on Harvey’s face before disappearing inside to shower.

***

 

**Mike +39 3290 194670**

I miss you, already.

 **Harvey** **(718) 279-5914**

My bed misses you.

**Mike +39 3290 194670**

You don’t miss me. Not even a little bit?

 **Harvey** **(718) 279-5914**

I miss your impersonation of an octopus.

**Mike +39 3290 194670**

So you do like to cuddle!

 **Harvey** **(718) 279-5914**

The fifth.

 

 

***

✉   **Date:** 04/19/2008

 **To:** jazzman72@gmail.com

 **From:** mikeross@gmail.com

 **Subject:** Thank you.

Grammy told me you’ve been visiting her on Sunday afternoons.

**Harvey** **(718) 279-5914**

Blackmail material, nothing more.

**Mike +39 3290 194670**

So Tin Man, you do have a heart.

 **Harvey** **(718) 279-5914**

If you only had a brain.

***

“Ass,” Mike stated when his call to Harvey finally connected.

“That’s funny. Cause you like my ass,” Harvey quipped, unable to keep the smile off his face. He kind of wished that he was having this conversation with Mike face-to-face and not over the phone just so he could enjoy the put out look on Mike’s face.

“Don’t know why? Some would consider this a form of abuse.”

“Cute.”

“So Grammy says,” Mike replied, “but seriously, Harvey. Thank you for visiting her.”

“I told you once already. If she’s important to you, then she’s important to me.”

Mike beamed at Harvey’s reply. As much as Harvey liked to say otherwise, he really did have a good heart and the fact that he voluntarily checked on Grammy made the worry that Mike felt about being so far from her lessen. “Has she been schooling you in backgammon?”

“I like to think I’ve been holding my own.”

“If it helps you sleep.”

“When is the next time, I’ll see you?” Harvey asked, trying and failing to keep the curious tone out of his voice. He hated Mike knowing that he was missed; all it did was give the kid a swelled head and he didn’t need any help in that department.

“Not sure. I only get 30 days leave a year,” Mike told him. Generally, he was pretty good about keeping track of his leaves; but since Mike had never taken emergency leave before, he’d have to check with personnel about how it would effect his annual 30 days. “I’ll have to check with personnel.”

“Okay.”

“Why?” Mike questioned, now curious about why Harvey was asking; it almost sounded like the lawyer missed him. After all, Mike was the one who normally planned when and where they would get together, since Harvey was stateside and Mike wasn’t.

With a sigh and an eye roll, Harvey stated evenly, “Our one year anniversary is around the corner.”

“One year, huh,” Mike repeated, “so we’re counting from our first meeting.”

“Yeah. If you must know, I stopped sleeping around after you.”

Mike beamed at Harvey’s response and teased, “Sap,” before adding, “me too.”

“Though, I have a reputation to protect,” Harvey remarked, tone leaving no room in what would happen to Mike if he ever let anyone know what he had just admitted too.

Mike laughed into the phone then sing song a quick, “Bye, Harvey.”

“Bye.”

***

✉   **Date:** 05/10/2008

 **To:** jazzman72@gmail.com

 **From:** mikeross@gmail.com

 **Subject:** Thou shall not pick up sailors!

****

**Harvey** **(718) 279-5914**

But I’ve always loved a man in uniform.

**Mike +39 3290 194670**

Lucky for you, I happen to have one. Maybe, we could explore that next time I see you….

 **Harvey** **(718) 279-5914**

Good idea.

**Mike +39 3290 194670**

I love you.

 **Harvey** **(718) 279-5914**

Stay safe, kid.

 **Harvey** **(718) 279-5914**

Love you too.

**{End Year One}**

 

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Suits or its characters, nor do I claim ownership for any of the movie quotes found within this work of fiction. Additionally, any and all photos within this piece belong to their respected creators, I'm just borrowing them.


End file.
